Making His Mark

The city never sleeps. Darkness embraces it, engulfs it, swallows it. Crime seeps in, into the corners, into the edges of the city like liquid does, leaving no space untouched, tainted. Unknowingly, as the heavy rain falls onto the earth down below, like hornets attacking a threat, 15 storeys up a dark figure lurks, waiting patiently, not moving a muscle, waiting for the precise moment. He balances himself on the railings of the building.

15 storeys below two hooded figures walk into the car park with crowbars in their hands. Their eyes are set on the blue Wira, where a woman just got in few moments earlier. From their stride, it seems like they know what they’re doing. It’s as though they’ve done this before. It’s going to be another routine job tonight. Or so it seemed..

The dark figure, observes the scenario that’s about to take place, like God does, watching men go about their lives.

The two men split ways and take on both sides of the car. They walk silently, their footsteps not making any sound and yet they quicken their pace. The one on the right raises his crowbar to break the windshield. The woman is caught off guard. Anyone would be caught off guard. It’s 1 in the middle of the night, the city never sleeps, and yet filth takes control in the dark, strangles you, forces you to become a part of it.

The dark figure takes a deep breath. It’s time to make his move. He stands at the edge of the railing and jumps, down below 15 storeys. It all happened fast. He pounces. Drops. Hits and smacks. It all ended for the two in 5 seconds.

The woman gets out to get a clear picture of what just happened, only to see the dark figure jumping up into the darkness of the parking lot, leaving the scene of what was to be a scene of crime, without any sound. She stares into the darkness with a daze.

The next day, the headlines in one of the daily’s read, “Masked Man Thwarts Robbery”